Tension
by BadOldWestern
Summary: Rose can't possibly focus under the duress the bond has been causing her body, and Dimitri feels obligated as her mentor to offer her some release. Set between Frostbite and Shadow Kiss.
1. Chapter 1

Training under such physical duress was unbearable.

Not the exercise. She could handle the crunches and the push-ups and the combat practices just fine, under normal circumstances. But what her body couldn't take was a different kind of strain. She'd be fine under normal circumstances.

If she didn't have to wake up twenty minutes before them after spending the night stuck in Lissa's perfect, healthy sexual relationship.

She growled every time her alarm went off, or if she woke after only a few hours of sleep she didn't dare shut her eyes again. She was tired, her body filled with gnarled and twisted muscles that never seemed to relax. And then she had to look at Dimitri, and spar with him, and wrestle with him on the ground, and to have him watch her body's movements, missing nothing and seeing everything. And even he could see something was wrong.

"Rose, your head has been elsewhere this entire week. Do you want to focus or keep wasting time?"

She punched a training dummy, glaring at him in a way that made him feel lucky she'd used the fake body and not him. "It's a bit more complicated than that, comrade."

"What's wrong?" he leaned against the wall, immediately knowing this wasn't going to be a short explanation.

"You…" she shook her head furiously, punching the dummy again, somehow even harder than the first time, "You wouldn't get it."

"I can try. Especially since if this is going to be something we'll have to struggle with after today. If it's going to be a distraction during your fieldwork in a few weeks."

"It's about the bond with Lissa. You wouldn't get it."

"You already said that. Just tell me and I'll try."

She sighed heavily, so frustrated with this conversation and irritable and her whole body craving release that she snapped in front of him. He saw the tension in her body reach its peak as she whipped around to face him.

"The bond with Lissa means that whenever her guard is down, and my guard is down, I get sucked into her head. So when she's distracted. When she may be with her boyfriend. While I may be asleep, completely oblivious."

Dimitri raised his eyebrows, a little stunned by the outburst.

"You mean you…"

"Yes Dimitri," she spat at him, "I have been teased for months and god damnit I am so fucking frustrated I am literally shaking."

He took a deep breath, pinching his brow between thumb and forefinger. She took a step to further berate him, but he held out a hand, warning her to give him a moment.

"Alright," he dropped his arms, energized.

"Alright?" she stared at him. "What the hell?"

"You have obvious muscle tension. You're all locked up," He segued breezily, "Lie down on the mat."

She stared at him incredulously. "It's that easy? I'm flattered, comrade, but can we find somewhere a bit more romantic than a sweaty gym?"

"A massage, Rose, is all I'm offering."

"Can you at least light some candles first?"

"_Rose_."

"Right. Sorry. Forgive me for misreading your offer. How would you like me?" she gave him a calendar-girl pose on the mat she stretched out on, and he rolled his eyes to the ceiling with a deep sigh.

"Rose, please be professional about this."

"You're right. What's a massage between teacher and student? Nothing, I'm sure."

He knelt on the mat about a foot away from her, grabbing one ankle and yanking her towards him, then rolling her onto her stomach.

She froze when his hands settled on her body, unabashedly stroking over her tense muscles.

He didn't hesitate to start working on her back, which was an absolute mess of knots. She groaned appreciatively, her head resting on the mat under her.

"Do you do this to all your students?" she said softly, biting back a smile. He dug his thumbs into a particularly knotted bit of muscle and her hiss of pain distracted her from flirting, but only momentarily. Her shoulders required the most attention, at least on her upper body, so he was leaned over her for a while. Her eyes scrunched shut tightly. He bit back a smirk at the way she rose up to meet his touch whenever it lifted, and how he could tell by the way her brow furrowed and relaxed based on how much better she felt after he finished a certain area. He worked his way from her shoulders down her spine to her lower back.

"This feels really good," she admitted softly.

His hands were suddenly gone from her, and she rolled onto her back, a little bit dazed and very much mourning the loss of his touch.

"This may be slipping very dangerously into something else." He answered her questioning look, but remained kneeling by her side.

"You're helping me, aren't you? Keeping me from being distracted. In combat."

She was reaching, justifying every step forward they could take and he was letting her, accepting flimsy excuses as long as she tried to make them. It was their compromise.

"Your legs were really locked up. Should I take a look?"

"It'd probably be for the best."

This much was true. Her spine felt languid, her shoulders loose and comfortable for the first time in weeks.

She rolled onto her back for him. He brought her knees up so her bent legs were open for him to kneel between.

Rose held her breath, watching him, their intimate position, his hands, everything.

His hands slipped above her knees, settling on her thighs. She stared up at him helplessly.

"Rose," he said softly, squeezing his large hands around her legs, "You have so much tension here."

She looked away, biting her lip. Her body wasn't lying to him, so she couldn't bring herself to use dishonest words. He was too good, too in control, to be lied to.

"I'm sure you want help, don't you?"

His eyes were guarded. She could see him holding back, waiting for her to nod, roll away and head to the showers or the nurse or anyone else keen on a personal massage on the legendary Rose Hathaway. But she could see it, behind his defenses.

He was also waiting for her to say yes.

The thought of him touching her anywhere sent chills through her, and she lifted her thighs a bit so to maintain his balance he'd have to bring himself closer.

"Help me," she said softly, looking up at him in a knowingly sinful way masked in innocence.

He didn't flinch, as though her response had been as enthusiastic as 'yeah, okay.' It didn't seem to phase him.

He lifted his left hand to join the right on one leg, and kneaded the tense muscle.

He worked his way up her legs. Neither of them spoke. Rose had her eyes closed and she seemed to be whispering something to herself. He heard the hushed hissing and wondered to himself if he sparked a "sweet sassy molassy" from her lips, but his imagination was assuring him of many better things. His hands reached the upper thigh of one leg, moving to the other, and there was no where to go but up, literally.

Her hips rolled when his fingers pressed around her inner thigh, checking for tension, working it away. Her muscles felt so good but the other parts of her, the parts that felt the worst, were aching for the same kind of relief. The kind that stemmed from his touch.

"Feeling better?" he asked, not looking at her.

"In all ways except the important one." She answered bluntly, looking at him with a bored expression.

"Rose, I'm sure a girl like you could find any boy on this campus to attend to this problem."

"But I'm asking you. As my…mentor. You can't train me when I'm like this."

He considered this, knowing he too was seeing side effects of his control, and he wasn't in the mind of a very sexually active teenager going through the bond. He sympathized with Rose, nearly as much as he wanted Rose, and it was reasonable in it's sick way, between them, this almost felt completely justified.

"What's "a girl like me" supposed to mean?" she asked quietly.

He glanced up. There it was. Vulnerability. She could lay out on the floor for him like a snack for a wolf but this was different. She wasn't posed for him. Her eyes flickered with shame, but deeper than that, betrayal.

He grabbed her arms as she tried to rise.

"Rose, it's impossible to not want you. As if you don't radiate…_life_. You're infectious and dead charming, as if you don't know and love it every minute you're alive."

His eyes questioned her for a moment, but he saw the way she looked at him. Her face told him she couldn't bear it if he was going to be half-assed about this, if they were using a game, a charade, as an excuse to touch one another he was going to have to act the part. She offered herself to be taken under his charge.

He nodded to himself, smoothing his hands over her hips.

"Well we can't have you distracted. Where are you having the most trouble?"

She could practically feel the thickness in his voice, the drop in tone and the accent flavoring it like smoke.

She trembled between his hands for one moment before grabbing his wrist and settling a hand between her legs.

His hair fell over his eyes, but under that she could see the slightest smirk on his face. She wondered for a moment when his hair came loose, but lost interest on that subject as soon as he began to gently rub her over the yoga pants she wore to training.

She whimpered, her legs closing around his hand automatically.

The contact was good, but not nearly enough. It was like a Band-Aid for cannonball wound.

Her fingers knotted in Dimitri's hair as she lowered her body to lie down, bringing him to lie by her side. He propped himself up on his free arm and leaned over her. She buried his face in her neck when he pushed her legs open again, increasing the friction of his rubbing.

She wanted to kiss him. She wanted him to lie over her, kissing her neck and under her ear. She wanted him to treat this like a normal boyfriend would. Yet somehow, they could justify this. It was like he was working a sore muscle. Like he was fixing a…kink in her neck or something.

He slipped his hand under the waistband of her clothes, stroking her slit very gently. Her hips thrust against his hand, frantically seeking the touch she was so often denied.

"You're so wet." He observed, a little stunned.

She nodded from under his chin.

"You weren't like this last time."

His lips pressed together after he says it, as though he immediately regretted telling her.

"Do you think about it a lot?" she asked, hissing when his fingers draw over her clit gently, teasing their way back down to her opening.

The night of the lust charm was hazy, but sharper in her dreams. She knew they'd fooled around quite a bit, and that he'd been very privy to all the parts of her naked body. His body she definitely had left to the imagination, something that left her infinitely curious.

"I definitely think about it more than I should."

She kissed his neck, once chastely, then again; parting her lips and wetly sucking on his pulse point. His body pressed against her side, and they curled together, carefully touching each other. He seemed to realize the longer he takes, the more she'll advance on him, so he lost his aimless teasing.

Her lips lifted from his skin when his fingertips gently circled her clit. She swooned briefly under the contact, exactly where she wanted him to touch her again.

He found a determined rhythm, her hips bucking underneath him. She couldn't contain herself, she was melting and all her pieces were spreading out and slipping away from her control. Shameless whimpers catch in her throat and she buried them into his neck.

"Is it agony Rose? Do you need this so badly?"

It felt like agony, like being tortured into delirium, like jumping from a great height and realizing your terror during the fall.

She nodded, tucking her face under his chin. He increased his pace.

"Then cum for me, Rose, if you need it so badly. I want you to cum for me."

"F-fuck," She cried against his jaw, and he felt every tremor and shake of her body as it pressed against his. She came messily, with little control over her body, so easily lost to him. How bittersweet it was, for both of them, to see that despite all the training she could be undone by so little.

Rose panted on the floor, expecting him to leave as soon as the deed was done. He didn't. he stroked a hand down her side as her lungs shuddered, soothing her as she recovered. He watched her with careful, intent eyes, until her own became less cloudy and she focused on his. Then his face closed off.

She lifted herself up by her elbows, staring at him questioningly. He cupped his hand to her face. Pressing a soft, furious kiss to her brow, he shut his eyes tightly, holding himself back. He left his lips there, and she felt his breath against her face, and realized in aiding her problem he only made his erupt. He stood up, shaking his head when she tried to rise. His fists were clenched, shaking with tension, and he gathered his book and shrugged his coat on, fastening it and covering his front strategically. This made her struggle to not grin, at what he was hiding. He began to walk towards the locker room.

"Do not follow me Rose. Promise me that."

She nodded, stupefied, as she watched him slip through the doors. Seconds later she heard the hiss of water through the pipes, and the blast of the showers.

She felt amazing. Her whole body was tingling and loose and relaxed. She felt fantastic, except for the guilt panging in her chest.

He didn't let her return the favor.

Right now he was taking a cold shower before he would ever let her touch him.

He'd even asked her to stay away.

She bit her lip. She never…_verbally _promised. He didn't wait to make sure she did.

Gathering herself up off the floor, she made her way to the locker room on very wobbly legs, ready for round 2.


	2. Chapter 2

The shower softened the noise of the door closing behind her, but she didn't need its help to remain undetected. Dimitri seemed very…preoccupied.

Rose had been incredibly careful about this decision, her internal debate conveniently buying her time to prevent her from entering before Dimitri got to the good part. She watched him under the shower stream, realizing that there was no part of this that wasn't good.

Water slipped off his body like his skin was shrugging it off. Though his clothes made his large physique seem boxy, underneath is all his muscles where all soft lines and curves. The shape of his naked back alone was leaving her weak kneed. He shook some of the water out of his hair, pressing a free hand to the wall in front of him.

The last thing she wanted to do was ruin this, but the conflict of betraying his trust and encroaching on his vulnerability was absolutely painful. She didn't want to violate him, but making her presence known was equally risky. And she couldn't bring herself to leave.

She'd half expected him to be doing breathing exercises, or meditating. It was her innocent way of consoling herself as she pushed through the doors after him. He wouldn't be doing anything major. He just wanted space.

Rose was wrong about that.

He was in one of the shower stalls, sopping wet and stroking himself. Furiously. Almost like he was punishing himself.

Rose's legs went weak and she leaned back against the wall, watching Dimitri touch himself in breathless awe.

She'd always dismissed guys jerking off as a kind of lame, can't-get-a-girlfriend thing, constantly teasing her male friends with gifts of industrial sized bottles of Jergens and boxes of tissues, but she was about to eat all those jokes. Sure, Dimitri could make anything look sexy, but shit, she'd never experienced anything as erotic as just watching him.

Water danced down his back, his perfect, muscular body tensed and rigid. She couldn't get a good look at anything explicit, the stall cutting off the more exciting parts. Honestly, the mystery was killing her. She'd never been one for patience, or surprises.

The steam kissed his body, and his hair plastered around his face and neck. He panted and grunted quietly, and she was most surprised by the noises he allowed himself, however small. His practiced self-control had shattered, and there he was, desperately trying to reach release.

She never felt so apart from him, yet close at the same time. He wanted her. What they had just done had aroused him enough to be doing this. But he didn't throw himself over her body and accept the affection she was more than willing to give. It could have been her, stroking him and kissing him, but he didn't seem to want that.

He had a determined rhythm that allowed no indulgence. She was almost saddened by how little he seemed to be enjoying himself. Yes, pleasure caressed his features, but his brow was knit in frustration and he almost looked pained.

She heard a final strained gasp and as he leaned one forearm on the tile wall, she realized he was cumming. His head tossed back and he breathed so deeply she could see it in his entire body. It was the single sexiest thing she'd ever seen. She pictured him hovered over her with that expression, spilling inside her. It took everything in her not to hop in the stall with him and jump him on the tile floor.

She felt very alone, across the room from him, as he recovered from his orgasm. There was no sound but the running water for several minutes, yet she couldn't bring herself to leave, even if it was over. He wiped a hand over his face quickly, rubbing one of his eyes as he shut the water off.

He exited the stall, towel draped around his hips. He didn't quite look shocked to see her. His gaze heated, and he considered her, slumped against the wall, swollen lips, arms crossed tight over her body.

"What's the one thing I asked of you, Rose?" he said in a low, dangerous voice.

She tossed her hair back defensively, straightening her spine. "I never said I wouldn't follow you."

He took a deep breath, and then strode over to her with a hell of a lot of conviction for a man in a towel. She raised herself defensively, as if they were about to spar, which was a ridiculous assumption, considering that he was naked.

He stopped a few feet from her, remembering himself, and she realized he was still keeping himself away, despite what she had just witnessed.

"Rose, this was entirely inappropriate."

"Are you-are you serious right now? After what happened back there?! I'm the one who went too far here? Not that I thought you went to far, I mean, I thought it was great, but you can do that to me but I can't watch you, after you got me going and just left?"

He braved her tirade wearily, sighing deeply.

"You can't…expect me to fix this for you whenever you wish." He said, with a softness that betrayed his similar wishes.

That sounded ideal at the moment. Her heart sank in disappointment.

"Damn. I really don't see any drawbacks of that."

"Rose, I shouldn't have acted as I did earlier. And you…you know you can deal with that problem on your own. It was stupid of me to indulge this."

"Well, I…uh…" she glanced at her feet, "I was never really big into touching myself. I never got the hang of it, I guess."

He took a deep breath through his nose, probably suppressing as many images as she was at that moment.

When he spoke, he sounded nothing like her mentor, and every bit the Russian Sex God she'd imagined.

"Rose, you have no idea how much that saddens me. That up until now these…_boys _have been the ones you've entrusted this to."

"It's not like I haven't tried! I just, I don't know…" she covered her face in her hands and released a tense breath, "You're making me feel really awkward about this, okay?"

He blushed, giving her a sheepish, guilty look. "I'm sorry. I just… you always seem to know exactly what you're doing."

"Well, clearly not always, okay? I haven't exactly had the time to explore my sex life with all the extracurricular activities I've been forced into. Besides," her voice dropped again, growing as close to timid as she ever would, "It's not like it's a big deal."

"Rose, believe me when I say that it's a bigger deal than you're trying to make it. At least…I mean…you deserve to enjoy…um…" he trailed off, shaking his head. "I'm making this much worse than it has to be."

"I probably just over-shared." She snaps defensively, blushing.

"Rose, is there anyone else you can talk to about this?"

"I'm talking to you because I trust you. And… well, you know why."

He finally chuckled at this, "Well, it does spark some images that I'm going to be struggling with for a while."

"What sort of images?"

"Rose."

"I'm not leaving you alone until you answer me. Picture it. I'll torture you. It'll be better if you just give me what I want."

"Rose…" he glanced around, despite no one on campus being awake yet, "I'm going to ask you only once to drop it before I assign you a new mentor."

This stung. Rose's eyes widened. She was silent, which signaled he had taken it too far. Even he realized it as soon as he said it. He rubbed the back of his neck as Rose recoiled from his threat.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry about this whole mess. I can't change the way I feel, but I can be responsible about it." He added, softly, looking at her with eyes that were pleading with her to understand.

"I just don't see what the difference is going to be, if I met you as some guardian, a year from now, if you never came to the academy…"

He nodded. "But it didn't work out that way."

"Just because it didn't work out that way doesn't mean it should change things between us. Where we'll actually be in a year is what's keeping us apart. I don't know about you, but I'd rather act on this while we have the chance than always wish we did."

"I'm thinking about it."

Her face flushed with anger.

"That's all I get? That you'll think about it?"

"Rose, I'm thinking about it nearly every second of every day." He gave her a dark look, showing her, in his eyes, exactly how much he was suppressing. It took her a minute to gather her thoughts after his look of lust and longing poured into her blood. She felt it in every nerve of her body. Her breath was gone, as were her words, and her desire to bicker with him.

She stepped towards him, a flame in her eyes that stilled his blood. But he didn't back up. He wasn't going to fight her.

"How about this," she said, in a compromising, practiced voice that conveyed maturity better than her usual tone, "You obviously know how to get me off. You know that expression: give a man a fish and he'll be full for a day, but teach a man to fish, and he'll be fed the rest of his life?"

he took a deep, meditative breath. "Rose…" he groaned, sounding tortured.

Her gaze softened. It was the same vulnerability she'd shown while stretched out on the mat in the gym.

"You said you had lots of things to teach me, and I'm only asking for one. Just…one session of guidance. And then I won't need you, or anyone, and I'll be less frustrated and distracted, and able to work harder."

"I can't believe we're doing this," he replied, but to her, that confirmed that yes, they were doing this. It was as much of an answer as he'd give her.

"Stop by my room when everyone's asleep. Make excuses, sneak in, I don't care how you do it, but just help me out today and I won't bring it up again."

He raised his eyebrows at this last statement, and even she couldn't believe that promise as she said it.

"Okay, I won't bring it up unless it arises naturally."

He closed his eyes, sighing. "'just once?"

"Once, until we figure out what comes next."

"If you think it'll help…."

She closed the space between them, finally, a confident lope to stand before him. She placed one hand on his bare chest, and brought her lips to his ear.

"I'd really, really appreciate the help. And I think this will give me enough help with memory alone to get me off the rest of my life."

She planned to pull away, but he grabbed her hips, holding her in place. He looked down at her, and she anticipated a kiss. A damn good kiss, based on the look in his eyes. But he didn't move. He just looked at her like he wanted her pinned down before him, left to his mercy. Exactly what he would get it he visited her room that night. His hands pressed against her so tightly, she was sure she would see where his fingers gripped her hips when she changed into her school clothes later.

"You're impossible to refuse." He said, with a dark, crooked smile, and released her.

"I'll see you at dawn." She answered coyly, though her demeanor was shaky from nerves. She turned to go, leaving him to get dressed. She didn't want the illusion shattered before it could settle. She let the locker room like a breeze, and both of them were silent in her wake. It was going to be a long night.

_A/N Please review! _


	3. Chapter 3

He wasn't going to show up. She was certain of it. She blew it. He was not going to show up and he was going to report her to Kirova and get her thrown out of the academy and then she'd be stuck in a blood whore commune living off the gross kink of being fed on. And she'd never see Dimitri again, which she hated him for making her feel bad about, and it'd be his fault she'd be a blood whore, and she'd still have the bond with Lissa so every day she'd wake up feeling what it was like to fuck Christian Ozera. Shit.

Because she had been casual about her invitation, there was no time where she could officially deem him late, or when at all to expect him, so as soon as dawn approached she was thoroughly convinced of the worst-case scenario. Dimitri wasn't coming and she was in big trouble.

She'd had half a mind to give up and enlist a some royal from her art history class, when she heard the gentle knock against her door.

"It's open," she said softly, bracing herself for someone like Lissa or a classmate asking about homework. She'd actually surprised to see Dimitri slide in and lock the door behind him.

"You came." She whispered softly, unmasked in her pleasant shock.

He couldn't help but smile a little bit, bowing his head graciously. He sobered quickly.

"No one saw me come in, but…we have to be discreet."

"Affirmative, comrade."

"Stop calling me that. Shall we begin?"

"Get settled first." She bounced on her bed slightly, trying to shake up the idleness that was spreading through her.

He crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head.

"Well, I've prepared refreshments. I figured you wouldn't object to a little slice of home," she announced grandly, producing a flask from her back pocket. "Vodka!"

He looked her up and down in a decidedly dangerous way and pried the flask free from her grasp. She half expected it to disappear into the inside of his jacket, properly confiscated, but instead, with a wry smirk he uncapped it and brought it to his lips.

He tipped back the flask and drank generously from her supply, which she watched with a bit of a stunned expression. He lowered the flask, seemingly unaffected from what had to have been a healthy dose of liquid courage, and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. When she brought the metal to her own lips, she found it was empty. He had drained the whole thing and hadn't changed a bit.

"You drank all of it." She said flatly, tipping the container to see if any stray drops would come out. They didn't.

"Voice your complaints to me when you're 21," he countered easily, "What kind of authority figure would I be if I just let you drink?"

_The same authority figure that made me cum twelve hours ago _was the look she gave him, but he was already shaking off her response.

She tossed the empty flask aside boredly, folding her arms over her chest.

"I think you owe me an orgasm." She pointed out helpfully, sliding her ass down the bed so she lay on her back, "So get up here."

"I'm not getting on that bed."

His eyes were cautious, less assured than she knew them to be. It occurred to her that he might even be nervous.

"So where do we start?" she whispered softly, her eyes sparkling. She looked thoroughly delighted, like some kind of perverted birthday girl.

"Get comfortable." He paced the room, not looking at her.

"Same goes to you." She replied wryly, noting his discomfort with boredom. He grimaced and slid off his coat.

He sat at her desk chair, folding his hands in front of his face as if he was observing a nature documentary.

"Alright," she grumbled, hooking her fingers in the waistband of her shorts, "You're being of no help right now. I'm just gonna get started and you yell out pointers when you feel the need to."

"You're just going to start like that? No warm up?"

She tossed her shorts aside, lying there in a tank top and underwear.

"Well, what do you suggest?"

"Well you have to at least get yourself in the mood."

"This conversation isn't exactly helping me, comrade. You're going to have to be a bit more helpful than that."

"What do you usually think about before you touch yourself?" he said it therapeutically, with the poise of doctor.

She looked at him pointedly, "You."

"What do you think about with me?" she relished how his voice deepened. The slight flavoring of accent was back.

She rolled onto her side, settling her weight on her hip in the calendar pin-up pose she used in the gym than evening. "Are we talking dirty, Dimitri?"

"It would seem so, Rose," he answered somberly, "Keep going."

"Hmmm," her hands settled boredly on her stomach. "I think about that night a lot. With the lust charm. I keep thinking about your body."

"What about it?"

Rose shut her eyes, trying to send herself back to that night.

"Everything."

He smirked. "Be specific."

His hands fluttered into her thoughts. There was a way they gripped the back of her thighs, holding her legs around his waist; that drove her wild. The memory was sending an ache resonating through her body. God, she was dying to feel that again.

"You touching me." She admitted quietly.

"Touch you where?"

His hands had been gentle, confident and unyielding, but gentle. She felt the chills run through her blood, the tips of her nipples hardening at certain memories.

"My breasts and…"

"Start there." He said evenly, cutting her off.

She looked confused for a moment, before tugging the neckline of her tank top down. She slid her hands over her breasts, letting them linger as she covered them from his view.

"You just…didn't paw at me like a boy would. It wasn't like, being roughly felt up after curfew."

"Show me what I did," he answered, very obviously trying to ignore that last part of what she said.

She smirked, reaching back to unclasp her bra. She maneuvered to loosened garment out of the way, drawing her thumbs over her nipples. Though it was nothing he hadn't seen before, they both felt the jolt that ran through him at the sight of her bare breasts.

"You…you were really gentle with my tits," she said softly, circling the hardened buds with her fingers, "Your tongue felt even better than your fingers though."

"Wet your fingers first," he advised softly, as though he was directing the position she should stand to execute of defensive block.

She ran her thumb over her tongue, lowering it back to her nipple. She left the other breast alone, snaking a hand down between her legs.

She started to rub herself, under her panties, quite roughly. Her face twisted in frustration.

"Slow down," he said softly. "Start slow. You're over stimulating yourself. Work your way up."

"Okay," she whimpered softly, following his command and stroking her own fingers up and down her slit, slowly, drawing on her clit gently before stroking back down.

"Better?"

"If you were touching me, what would you be doing now?"

"I'd…" he took a meditative breath, "I'd have one finger inside you. I'd be teasing the wetness out of you. Crook your finger about two inches inside, stroke that area at the front." He slipped from fantasy to instruction seamlessly, though there was a clarity to his face when he gave an order, and a fogginess when he spoke for himself.

Rose fumbled through his instructions and cried out the second she found what he was guiding her towards.

"Are you wet?" he whispered.

"Do you wish you could touch me?" her head whipped to the side to look at him. Her gaze was intent and desperate, her breath shuddering out of her lungs. Her hips were meeting the strokes of her fingers.

Dimitri watched this in a daze, so heady and thick-tongued with desire.

"Yes." He whispered, so softly it was more of a breath than an answer.

"I-fuck-wish you could too. If we could, what would you do to me?"

He went to her at this point, kneeling at the floor next to her bed.

"I'd fuck you with my fingers first. I'd add one finger after another until you were begging for my cock."

"I want it." She panted out, in a rushed voice, and he realized she was half in a fantasy, almost under a lust charm of their own, and not as coherent as usual.

Emboldened, he watched her hand move inside her panties.

"I'd kiss down your neck, and play with your breasts. I miss your breasts. They were so full, so sensitive. You almost came in my bed just from me playing with your breasts. Do you remember that?"

Her hips lifted off the bed. "Yes I remember."

"Stroke your clit, slowly. Don't over stimulate." He commanded roughly.

She nodded at his orders, chewing her lower lip. "Keep talking." She whimpered.

"Next, I'd move down your stomach, and spread your legs. Or would you do it for me?" he challenged, with a slight smirk. Her eyes had fluttered shut so she hadn't noticed.

"I would." She panted out.

"Of course you would. You'd spread your legs and let me do dirty things to you, wouldn't you?"

"I'd let you do anything. Tell me what you'd do."

She opened her eyes and watched him. It was so wrong, what they were doing, so filthy and inappropriate, but it was too sexy for him to pull away. He wasn't touching her, yet what they were doing was more explicit than any kiss they shared, or anything he'd actually done during the lust charm. He was doting and gentle under the lust charm.

He was loving. Not rough. Not dirty. Not like this.

Yet she loved every second, savoring every word.

"I'd kiss your thighs and tease you until you begged me to touch you where you needed it. Where is that, Rose?"

"M-my pussy." She stuttered softly.

"I'd kiss your pussy, and slide my tongue between your wet lips, lick your clit and and put it inside you. God, I want to feel you cum when I fuck you with my tongue."

"Who's s-stopping you?" she sassed back, grinding her hips against her hand.

"Slow down," he ordered easily, noticing she was so close to finishing.

"I thought the point was to make me cum," she snapped, but he noticed she had listened.

"Tease yourself a little bit. It's more satisfying if you prolong it."

"Y-you didn't tease yourself this afternoon," she said, because their hypothetical sex life was indeed bittersweet, but mostly burningly bitter.

"I wasn't really thinking about me. If I'm going to…mentor you this way, I want you to get the most satisfaction out of it."

"Would you do that to me? Tease me?" she stared into his eyes again.

He smoothed the matted strands of sweaty hair off of her face. "If I could ever build up the patience. I'm not sure I could hold back enough, with you."

She moaned loudly at this, her hips grinding against her hand.

"You having trouble with patience, that's funny."

"You'd be surprised how much you've changed."

He watched the roll of her pelvis, praying to one day know what it was like to feel her more like that against him.

He snapped out of it to hear her getting louder, dangerously so.

"Discretion, Rose."

"I need it," she whimpered.

"I know."

She was getting louder, but fighting it valiantly.

"I think I'm gonna scream." She panted out.

"Don't scream," he said evenly, suddenly at her side. He had climbed on the bed and was lying next to her.

She glanced at him, eyes darting around his face, as she grew red from holding her breath.

"Breathe, just don't scream," he stroked a hand over her ribcage.

She grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly as she brought it up to her lips. He understood, carefully holding a hand over her mouth. As soon as his palm covered her lips and his fingers curved under her jaw, she was moaning against his skin, louder than she could before. He felt strange, suppressing her noises when all he wanted was to hear them.

He watched her hand work herself over, moving safe in her underwear, where he couldn't see it. Her feet dug into the mattress as she arched off the bed, and he felt the vibrations of her crying out against his palm.

"Keep touching yourself, drag out the orgasm," he added as an almost afterthought.

Her whole body was shuddering with pleasure, from his words and her imagination and sickeningly enough, from the fact he was watching her. She'd never been this worked up in her life, and never came this hard. She let herself go and arched off the bed, shaking from hos good she felt.

Her movements became sporadic and desperate, and he knew that he had fulfilled his end of the bargain, which was a strange thought, because he still felt unsatisfied.

His hand slipped from her face. It had really nowhere to go, so he slid it to the other side of her head. His arm stretched across her body.

She panted, her hands splayed on her hips, careful not to touch him because she knew she'd jump him on the spot if his skin brushed hers. She couldn't really do anything while she caught her breath, except stare at the arm hovering over her.

"Good?" he whispered softly.

"Good," she confirmed, closing her eyes.

"Something wrong?"

"Can you…just…hold me?" she muttered, feelings very isolated on her bed. This experiment had failed. He hadn't made her more independent. He made her even more full of…him, in her mind and the longing of her body, that his absence would feel like a slap.

He looked pained, brushing her hair off of her face. She leaned against his hand with a sad smile.

He swore once in Russian, softly, and snuggled closer, wrapping his arms around her. She sighed, cooing like a dove, and snuggled into the hold of his strong body.

"Thank you." She whispered. They both lay in silence, knowing that it was hard for her to be grateful, when all he did was sit there an bark orders, when all she wanted was his hands on her once again. It was hard to be grateful when she couldn't have the one thing she wanted. She was trying to stretch the inch he gave her into a mile.

"You asked me about my birthday." She whispered, her throat suddenly very dry.

"I did." He kissed her brow. He couldn't help it.

"I didn't have a long list. I want one thing."

He groaned, holding her very close. She felt his growl against her body, tightly trapped in his arms.

"There are so many things I wish I could give you, Roza, and you know what the first of those things is."

"Do I know?" she pulled back to look at him. "Because you've been kinda vague about 'things'."

He stared down at her, shame flooding his dark features. He pressed his brow again hers.

"Myself, I'd give you myself."

The fact that this was their first kiss in a while, considering everything that happened between them the last twelve hours, was ridiculous. But it wasn't like any of their other exchanges. Dimitri gave himself into that kiss, overwhelmingly so. He slid his body over hers, stroking his hands over the backs of her thighs, gripping them when her hips wiggled against his. His tongue overwhelmed her mouth, possessing, owning her. He gripped his hair, rubbing whatever she could of her body against his.

Too soon, he pulled away. It was abrupt, and aching when she lay on her bed alone.

He gathered up his coat, running a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But I can't."

"I know," she said softly, wrapping her arms around her knees.

He left, checking the hallway from her doorway. It gave her just enough time that watching him leave was painful.

She didn't feel satisfied. She didn't feel full anymore.

Sexual release wasn't what the problem was. She was so strung up because she needed him.

_A/N. Oh. Oh man. I went crazy with the dirty talk. Whoops. Too late to turn back now!_

_Anyway, follow me on tumblr to make requests or just see WIP if you want! LyresandLasers._


	4. Chapter 4

Classes dismissed, students dispersed, and Rose was taking advantage of her free time with a few bad decisions. She'd gotten out of practice of hunting down guys, reputation alone had them coming to her for years, but her newfound priorities scared away many casual advances, so she was back on the horse.

Her heart shuddered with guilt over her determination to find a boy to hook up with before the night was over. Something felt wrong about it, childish and vengeful, but honestly, some casual flirting and a body against hers would make for some very nice comfort.

And distraction. So the minute she spotted a reasonably cute, familiar face (some Moroi named Fritz she casually flirted with sophomore year but never planned to interact with ever again) she slipped into step next to him with her sights locked on him.

"I need to talk to you. Now."

Trying to be sexy was hit-or-miss. Every guy in this school had their pre-determined standard of sexy they swore by but didn't commit to. Confidence was the only sure seduction technique. She found with the right kind of smile no one ever said no to her. Well. Almost no one.

He certainly wouldn't. Fritz smiled like he won the lottery. He wasn't particularly extraordinary looking or well connected, so he wasn't enjoying the same lifestyle as, say, Jesse Zeklos. He was cute, with blonde hair swept into his eyes and a sweet smile, but she remembered him as not very mentally stimulating or interesting.

"What's up?"

Rose suppressed the twinge that reminded her that Dimitri never spoke so casually, so…young, she assumed, and bit back the ugly way her face wanted to twist.

She slid her fingers around his wrist and pulled him down an empty corridor. The campus was growing quiet and no one wanted to linger near the classrooms, so they went virtually undetected. She didn't look back as she led him to her desired location. He didn't matter. This wasn't about him. The archways of the side doors of this building fit two people as comfortably as a dressing room, so they didn't have to touch right away, which she remedied immediately. She kind of missed the classic near-wordless pick-up. On the top of her game, she got lots of boys to follow her out of parties with just a look from across the room. She felt like her old self, almost nostalgic. Like she was performing a dance she danced years ago but remembered all the steps. Her footing may be off, but it never really left her.

His hands fumbled at her hips in such a dearly boyish way that she felt nauseous from it. His lips caught hers when she initiated the kiss, chuckling from her apparent rush.

"Whoa, chill out," he whispered with a laugh.

She smirked, a twisted smile that felt like shoving glass into her leg, and met him for a slower kiss.

"Sorry. I just got excited," was her well-acted response, in an "oh shucks, couldn't expect more from me" tone that she was well aware of, and appropriated like a mask.

It was a game. It was like going back to the playground and finding your ass didn't fit down the slide anymore. She'd outgrown this. This was so trivial.

Oh god. There it was. The bitter, acidic burn of self-destruction.

Her arms tangled around him, the less talking the better, and her vice grip on him assured they weren't there for talking. She closed her eyes. Yes. Hands running down her sides, stroking her back and grabbing at her ass. God. The stupid groping. He was just squeezing at curves with nothing to do with them. Still, it was better than nothing. Better than being alone.

He was feely, but not dominant. He didn't grab her, or hold her, he simply pressed against her and leaned. It was not a powerful, full body force.

She needed pressure. And heat. Her under stimulated mind and body stretched and ached for some greater feeling, when there was none.

Did she feel too much for Dimitri, or not enough for anyone else?

She backed herself flat against the stone wall, pulling Fritz by his collar to blanket her with his body. Even then, he was clumsy, and his weight was awkward against her. She ground herself against him, daring for explicit action, any action, to take the weight off her shoulders.

She knew how bad this decision was, but what was a good story without a bad decision? A bad choice was usually the opening line of her story.

Fritz moved to her neck, a moroi male weakness, and was already nipping. Old rumors die hard.

"Don't," she commanded, gripping his hair.

He ignored her, and she felt the brush of teeth, and shivered in anticipation, that loathed anticipation, that maybe something tonight would feel good, something she couldn't have with Dimitri.

"I said don't," she added weakly just as the skin broke. She leaned her head back and anticipated pleasure.

There was none to be had.

She felt the brush of cold before she registered the loss of his mouth. His hands yanked her in the direction he was pulled. She stumbled forward, looking up and only seeing a pair of brown eyes that struck at her like fists.

"We've gotta stop meeting like this," she slurred out, drunk on disappointment.

Fritz was already skittering up the hall, proving what a worthwhile endeavor this was.

Dimitri looked like he wanted to chase him down for a proper beating. It was strange his anger was pointed at one of the brainless high school boys he often criticized for not being good enough for her. Clearly she was the responsible party. Weren't these things always her fault?

"What the fuck?" she finally spat out at him.

"Go to your dorm." He said coldly, straightening his clothes.

"You can't toy with me like that and then treat me like a student whenever it's convenient."

"Rose, you gave your word you weren't going to bring this afternoon up."

"Yeah, not during training or in the hallway or when it was inappropriate, but when you're being an asshat? Yeah, I'm going there."

"Rose, I understand what you're going through but the way you go about it is completely reckless."

"Well you won't do it yet you constantly get angry about my way of handling it. What would you suggest?"

"Don't rush into things to spite me. You need to date someone else for a while. Someone who cares about you."

"I did. He died last month, remember?"

It was an ugly way of fighting. Mason was such a touchy subject with her. A fresh wounded she didn't want prodding at. The loss of the friendship, and her accountability was a sting she administered on herself to hurt Dimitri as well.

Her pool of male acquaintances was an unreliable source. Moroi who couldn't care less, or guardians with the life expectancy of the average house pet. The body count of young guardians was never taken into account. The years following a graduating class were a ritual bloodbath. Her mother was considered ancient in her field. Dimitri made it this far, with high profile posts, and that meant he was hard to kill. Dimitri was strong and resilient and powerful, and nothing could hurt him. She may have loved his vulnerability around her, but what she depended on was his strength. She needed to trust it.

"God, it's like I'm cursed or something. It seems like every time I let a guy touch me it blows up in my face, or they get hurt, or…"

Her spine seemed to contort with exhaustion. She slumped forward, losing her spark.

She needed that strength devoted to her. She needed to trust him to protect her if she wanted him to. She didn't need it, but she wanted to know it was there.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. He gathered her in a hug she was too numb to try and process. She let him hold her.

"The fact that I'm worsening any of those feelings…Rose, you know why this is so difficult."

She slid her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. She fell back to her previous position in the doorway.

"Rose…" he began cautiously.

Her eyes flickered at him, challenging him to do something to hurt her. But underneath her dangerous expression, he could see he already had. He kissed her brow, smoothing her hair back.

"I care about you. Deeply. So it pains me when you aren't being treated like you deserve, especially from these boys, but I also can't treat you the way I want to."

"I think after all the things I've been through, our relationship wouldn't exactly be a destructive force."

Her leg slid up to curve around his hip. He went rigid, trying to pull away.

"Rose," his voice was as close the pleading as she'd ever seen this god reduced to, "Rose, please, go back to your room, stay there, alone, and stay away from me."

"If that was what you really wanted, you would have kept yourself away. And may I remind you, _lover boy_," she rolled her hips against him roughly, probably a bit too hard telling from the noise he made, "You haven't exactly been keeping your hands off the merchandise."

"Well I intend to now. At least until I…"

"Don't pull away. Stop pulling away." She demanded, twisting her features to prevent herself from tearing up.

"I just can't think when you're touching me," He growled against the skin of her shoulder.

"Don't think," she concludes easily, holding him close. She felt the threads were thin, breakable under her grasp.

"All I'm asking is to clear my head. A lot has happened recently. My judgment is so off right now."

He lifted his hands from her, backing away slowly.

"I'm sorry. Get some sleep."

She looked at him hollowly, aching to be held again.

"Rose, I'm so sorry."

It was clear on his face this was killing him. It earned him mercy from the rage boiling inside her.

She was tired of those words. She needed to sleep. But sleep led to the bond, and the bond led to Lissa's perfect life, and everything she couldn't have.

They tried to flit around feelings with just "oh it's nothing personal just pleasure me and suppress all aforementioned affections" but it wasn't right. It wasn't working.

Dimitri was walking away again. He was leaving. She couldn't watch him walk away again. She had to turn her back to it.

This was a disaster. Rose was silent, pulling the door she stood next to open and gliding through the night, before the sun scattered everyone on campus, safe to their rooms.

Rose vanished into the night chill, feeling everything and nothing at the same time.

_A/N Ah! Angst! I was not anticipating angst! It can't be all smut, sorry if that was what I advertised. It's all building up! It will get fluffier I swear, I just got sidetracked by conflict. Before I decide the ending, here's a hint in the form a genuine question: Would you rather me re-create the cabin scene, or have Rose lose her virginity my way? Be honest in your reviews, Canon, New, or either. _

_Sorry I invented a random moroi for her to make out with, I was too lazy to manipulate an existing character into consequence-less hooking up with Rose. Why Fritz? No fucking clue. _

_Thank you all for the excitement and feedback, it's really fueled this story for me and made the writing feel rewarding. Stay tuned for the next chapters, and definitely more Rose and Dimitri from me in the future!_


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N. I usually don't do Author's Notes at the beginning of a story, but Yikes. Wasn't expecting the dissatisfaction from that last chapter. Especially since personally I know how to resolve it and spend most of this chapter doing just that. Don't panic guys; I'm going to bring them together in a way that I know will make you happy. They just need to work stuff out first. Patience! Have faith in me!_

Training was worse than ever before.

If things were tense before their little exercises, there was nothing keeping the fraying threads from snapping now.

Rose was about to throw Dimitri into a wall, and Dimitri was struggling to not have to touch her to keep her off of him.

The evening's training session began silently, not comfortably as they were used to, but eerily so. Rose entered the gym, threw down her bag, and took position for sparring.

If she had looked a degree less angry he would have picked his book back up, ignored her invitation and told her to run some laps.

But the unforgivable offence that flippancy would have caused would have cost him a student, a fellow guardian, and a friend. Mostly, it would have cost him Rose, the whole package and all its trappings: something far too great to gamble with as he had been doing.

So he stood, and awaited her first swing.

Of course, she was angry, an absolute mess of hormones, and deeply emotionally unsettled by the sight of him. And he was the Russian Guardian God. His first few moves were just simple blocks, flinging off her attempts to knock him out as easily as swatting at flies.

One thing he never thought through with Rose was their different styles of fighting. Dimitri liked the focus of a fight. No talking, no words, speaking through the way he held his weight and his balance. Reading the opponent to communicate. Though he'd never fought someone like this.

Rose liked talking dirty, he learned, and he should have remembered it when he accepted her challenge. And the tirade began.

"Left me like a pile of dirty laundry and just sauntered off for some Yoda-bullshit alone in your room. If I hadn't caught you jerking off, I'd assume you were one of those asexuals or something. I don't think masturbating over a student is any better than fucking one. At least the student has to be into it. Really? Pumping one out in the shower like a fourteen year old boy?"

The end of each cutting comment accompanied each swing, and she clearly had an arsenal of them trained on his every move. Rose had all day to think this over and she used every second whether she wanted to or not. He could take the sex insults, mostly because her behavior last night made a hypocrite of her now, accusing him of being undesirable.

She could see the comments roll off him, his eyes deep in focus, still pushing her attacks away with ease.

That's when everything got darker.

"Do you really treat women this way?"

He was so stunned she got a good shove in, sending him back a few feet, scrambling to recover.

"What?"

"Just lead them on like that. Flirt. Tease. Get invested in their lives, their problems. Make sure you're a part of their schedule, their routine. Just inject yourself into their lives and then when they finally can't seem to find anyone else but you, you just drop them like nothing?"

He winced as she landed a hit to his arm at the last word, and it almost stopped her from continuing, but she reasoned that Dimitri was a big boy.

"It's what you did with Tasha, wasn't it?"

Rationally she knew this was unfair of her, his rejection towards Tasha was exactly what she'd wanted. He was so stunned he ignored that jab, focusing on where he'd actually wronged her.

"Rose, you know none of this was intentional."

"You act like it's so hard to walk away, have you ever thought about how it feels to be _left_?"

He'd be so proud of her fighting abilities, if she hadn't also perfected how to take him down with her words.

"Do you know how humiliating it is? I trusted you and then you brush off what happens like it's nothing to you. _It's not nothing to me._"

"I'm in a very tricky position Rose, you know I have honest feelings for you it's just that acting on them…"

"Yet you do. And even after the first night, where my body was used as a getaway scheme so someone could kidnap my friend, you coughed and sputtered and tiptoed around me like I _planned it to get you to want me._"

"That's not true," he said softly, his movements slowing as his eyes searched her face, "Rose, I didn't know how to feel after it happened, I never…"

"Shut up and fight back." She yelled with a furious kick. She overshot the landing, and stumbled forward when he jumped out of the way.

He set his hands on her shoulders to steady her.

"Rose, please, you have to calm down."

"Don't touch me."

"You know how I…"

"I said don't touch me," she yelled, and did the very thing she'd wanted to do for a long time. It was more satisfying than a sparring match in a padded room. She reeled her arm back and clocked Dimitri in the face.

She may have learned excellent combat from him, but a Rose Hathaway punch was legendary, even without his training.

While he didn't faint, which was her secret wish, he did kneel to the ground, hissing as blood spurted from his lip.

"Shit," Rose shrieked. She had not actually expected to hit him. He had his guard up, and he knew she was going to swing! How could this happen?

She fell to her knees at his side, covering her mouth with her hands. It was the most openly apologetic she'd ever been in her life, especially after a punch. She'd just been so angry, so provoked and frustrated and tired that she swung too hard and really hurt someone she cared about.

Shit. She just became her mother. Being on the other side of this exchange did offer one hell of a perspective.

He drew his hand away from his face to check about much he was bleeding, looking at her with caution. He knew she'd back off from the attack, for now, but he hadn't exactly lost and she hadn't won. They were stuck in the awful middle ground, exactly where they were before. Exhausted, angry, conflicted. This past twenty-four hours was a mess.

"Should…should I get you some ice or something?" her hand hovered near his face, not able to touch him but she couldn't hold it down.

"It's fine. Hand me a towel."

She dove for the one she left next to her water bottle, tossed aside near the door of the gym.

"Are you…?"

"Fine," he answered, ducking his head to prevent meeting her eyes.

"Do you need anything?"

"No," he replied, "I think what we need is to…"

"I need a shower," she announced stiffly, cutting him off.

She stared at him a moment after she said it, balancing a question on her tongue, before giving up and brushing past him. The doors swing shut behind her. And standing in her shoes, exactly where she was the day before, he realized just how tempting it was to be in this position. The stillness following their fight was so empty, instead of thick with their terse bond. Something had snapped. It didn't feel any better than battling their impulses. He sighed, rising, knowing this had to be remedied quickly.

Rose tore off her clothes in frustration, diving under the hot blast of the shower before he could get any bright ideas.

She combed her finger through her hair, shaking it under the shower stream. The heat eased the tension in her muscles to a dull ache.

She heard him enter, but she didn't look at him. She didn't move. Just clutched her arms around herself under the stream of water.

"I'm not looking," he said at once, and she turned a fraction to confirm. His back was to her. "I'm just going to talk, but if you want me to go, I'll leave."

He was getting good at that. She remained silent.

"I don't want to keep things physical between us."

She stirred, glancing over her shoulder slightly. "What?"

"What I mean is, I want to try to be together. We're not going to keep ignoring our feelings and throwing ourselves at each other. We're doing this the right way. No more "no emotions, just sex" between us."

"It never got that far to begin with." She pointed out flatly.

He closed his eyes. "Not for lack of trying. In the direction we were going, it'd end up that way. So let's not act like it's the mature thing to do to drive each other crazy."

"So…you want to…" she drew it out, waiting for him to say it.

He took a deep breath. "Whatever it is. Not holding back. Physically, yes, I want to take things slowly…but I don't want to hold back anymore."

"Hold back what?"

"The fact I'm in love with you."

She held her breath, steam wafting around her face. She smoothed her hair back, listening to the expectant silence between them.

"Say it again."

"Rose, you knew how I felt…"

"No, turn around, look me in the eye, and say it again."

"Now?" he said with a slight laugh.

Rose turned herself around, folding her arms over her chest carefully. She laughed softly; the first time he'd heard it, light and free, in a while. Relieved, so relieved. He closed his eyes at the sound of it, smiling. She lived for that smile.

He turned towards her, starting to speak.

"No, come here," she commanded, straightening her shoulders with confidence.

"What happened to slow?" he muttered softly, but still obeying. He strode towards her with his affectionate smirk. He stood outside the stall, where she stepped out from under the water and stood before him, arms strategically placed to cover herself. She gave him an expectant raise of her eyebrows.

"Be serious," he compromised with an amused smile.

"Dimitri," she said in a grave voice, nodding in greeting.

"I'm in love with you, Roza."

There was a brief, terse pause. "…I know."

He rolled his eyes at her, but she saw him holding back a laugh.

"I'm in love with you too."

His brown eyes were melting her, intent and overjoyed. They searched her face, the way her brow finally un-furrowed, her easy smile, the curve of her cheeks.

"Your mouth is all bloody." She observed with a curl of her lip. "The moroi might start swarming."

"Whose fault is that?" he said with a smirk, drawing closer.

"I said I was sorry…" she whined as he leaned down to kiss her.

"No you didn't." his smile was glowing against her lips. He brushed his nose against hers instead of kissing her, teasing her once again.

She ran her wet fingers along his lips, cleaning the blood away.

"Oh. Right. I am sorry," she said with a hint of gravity he knew was completely ironic, "Let me make it up to you."

She rose onto her toes, catching him in the most perfect kiss she'd ever felt. Dimitri loved her, they weren't in a trance, they weren't arguing, and she could feel his feelings for her surging through the movement of his mouth along hers. The slope of his lower lip caressed her gently, his tongue moving slowly inside her mouth to claim her. God, this was so much better than the ridiculous mess she'd gotten into with What's-His-Name.

"Care to join me or…?" she quirked a brow up coyly, like she was inviting him for tea or something equally prim and inappropriate for this setting.

He pulled his shirt over his head, pushing her back under the water so he had room to fully undress.

He hesitated with the waistband of his pants. "Are you sure this isn't too fast?"

She turned her back to him, rinsing her hair in the hot water.

"What's a shower between mentor and student, Comrade?"

He grinned, grabbing her arm to pull her for another kiss. "Just a shower."

"With some casual, totally accidental, completely understandable touching. I mean, it is a small shower. We'll just have to make do."

A weight was lifted off of her. She had been trying to slither into his life by targeting his desire for her, what she didn't consider was how much it toyed with his feelings to do so. And he was just trying to give her something, a compromise, anything he could offer to bring himself closer to her. But he feared risk, where she embraced it.

"I am gonna get you back so good for all the times you were such a tease…" she cooed, grinning up at him with the classic Rose Hathaway smile.

"I think I deserve that," he groaned with a slight air of agony. "But first…"

She heard the whisper of his belt slide free from the loops, the most beautiful sound she'd ever heard.

_A/N see, I might actually know what I'm doing! _

_Sorry for the attitude, I just got one anon that really pissed me off and it kind of stung as I was writing and planning the next chapters. Anyway, stay tuned for some Romitri Shower Smut and well… the progression of their totally normal, secret, forbidden, technically illegal relationship. Hurray!_


	6. Chapter 6

She couldn't even bring herself to turn her head, she was so aroused. She was actually dizzy from the sound of his clothes hitting the floor. She wasn't even sure what she was going to do when he actually started touching her.

"Excuse me," he said softly, suddenly just behind her ear, "It's a tight space, would you mind…" his hands settled on her hips to guide her slightly to the side, but not enough to prevent her from brushing up against him as he stepped under the water.

She glanced over her shoulder, finally indulging in an experience too rich to not be shared. Her eyes slid over him, the brush of her gaze a tangible feeling against his skin. She turned towards him to settle her hands on his chest, hiding the fact she needed something to keep her standing upright.

For fear of losing complete control, she turned to her one true calling. Giving people shit.

"You know," she began sweetly, "you never actually apologized."

His head dipped to one side, reading her face. She was teasingly casual, but something glinted in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Rose. I was a stupid ass and you deserve to be treated so much better than that."

"And once again, I'm sorry I punched you in the face. But you kind of deserved it. You were being a dick."

He smirked at her, the darkest look simmering in his brown eyes.

"Are you going to punish me Rose?" he teased, his breath barely sustaining the length of the question. That gorgeous Russian purr rode her bloodstream like a zip line.

"Punching you wasn't enough?" she joked, a rare blush tinting her cheeks. With the growing appeal of his question she grew braver. She tilted her head as if in thought, "I don't know, should I?" a devious smile spread across her face.

"I don't know if we should get in the business of punishing each other," he said with a grin soaked in a kind of wickedness, one that activated all of her nerves.

"Oh, why is that?"

his hands gripped the meat of her ass, squeezing firmly with enough suggestion to lead her to his flirtatious threat.

"I might enjoy it too much," he murmured, his breath tickling her ear. Chills erupted across her body, and she shivered. His hands found her elbows to hold her steady.

Unable to bear the verbal teasing, she slithered her arms free from his grasp and placed her hands back on his chest. Her lips pressed to his, and the practiced emotional distance their flirting created fell apart with the passion flowing between them. He gripped her tight against his chest, cursing softly in a mix of Russian and her name as she lowered her lips to the underside of his jaw, working down his neck.

She pressed a kiss to his sternum, and trailed more of them down between his ribs. She lowered her body as her lips worked over his abs, feeling his skin under her tongue for the first time in a long time. It felt like the first time, her senses sharp and alive and not clouded in a fog of magic.

"I think it's your turn."

She knelt in front of him, and already he was growling and tangling his hands in her hair. She offered him a dainty smile, a meager offering for the position she was in, before trailing her lips along the dipping line from his hipbones to his groin. She felt his cock stir against her chin, and pulled back slightly to finally observe that perfect specimen of the male organ. He tangled his hands in her hair, bringing her closer, but gently enough she could resist if she wanted to. The only thing that tore her away from his thick, clearly proportional cock was the gaze she felt literally warming her skin. She glanced up, slightly distracted by her current task, and nearly lost control at the expression on his face, dark and domineering, threatening in the dirtiest way. She wanted him to always look like that, fucking her with this perfect cock and forever just like that seemed impossibly nice.

Fuck slow. They weren't working well with slow.

Trailing her fingertips up his thighs and around his hips, she finally wrapped her fingers around his shaft, guiding the tip of him into her mouth.

The sound he made was animalistic, and he twisted a section of her hair in his fist for a better grip on her head. It didn't hurt, not at all, but the roughness was a sure sign that Dimitri would not do well with being teased right now. She would have smiled, if not for her current position, and drew him further into her mouth, sliding her hand over what would clearly not fit (a lot).

Rose had never been a fan of blowjobs. She'd had a healthy respect for why they were important, and was no novice in the execution of one, but wasn't up at night thinking about them. It was, up until now, a necessary evil.

But everything with Dimitri had already been an exception, and she was about to make a big one.

It was power. Even positioned lower than him, even on her knees on the floor, when she looked up at him, she saw the power she had over him. His hips jerked forward at the feel of her hot mouth wrapped around him, and she had him under a trance as she bobbed her lips back and forth along his length. His eyes were closed tightly, and as he gripped her hair he could only bring himself to groan "Roza…Roza…" over and over again. She could feel him getting closer. His hand wound tighter in her wet hair, squeezing droplets of water out that ran down her neck, giving her chills.

It was the sexiest she'd ever felt.

As she worked her tongue over his tip, he shuddered against her, quickly looking down at her with a look of concern.

"I'm gonna come," he said softly, granting her to time to pull away if she wanted.

She ran her tongue along his length, smirking when he groaned once again.

"Go ahead," she murmured, and to his shock wrapped her lips around him once more.

With a low growl, he finished, and she swallowed every drop quickly without a second thought.

He was panting against the tile wall, for the second practice in a row, and wrapped a heavy arm around her when she stood. She caught a bit of water in her mouth to get any remnants of their last act cleaned away. She rested her head on his chest, savoring his arms around her and the way his heart was racing.

"I guess I'll have to punish you some other time…" she said softly, her lips brushing his skin as she spoke.

He laughed darkly. "Rose, I don't think I could withstand any punishment you could dish out."

She sighed against his chest, "All the more reason…"

His lips brushed her cheek, then dipped under her ear to nibble to lobe gently. She hissed with pleasure as he neared her neck, his skilled mouth working over the skin that was most sensitive.

He spun them around, quickly, so she was pushed into the wall before she could sense what was happening.

"Spread your legs." He demanded in a low, dangerous voice.

_Anything for Dimitri, _she reasoned, leaning her back against the wall and pushing her feet apart as he was brought to his knees before her.

Her heart nearly stopped in the realization of what he was going to do to her.

He nipped at her thighs gently, kissing the soft flesh and the muscle he'd basically spent the last few months helping craft. It was eerie, looking up at her naked form, seeing how even since the night of the lust charm how much he'd been a part of her body's transformation; lean, toned, but still so delectably curved. He glanced up into her eyes, briefly asking for permission, which she smirked at, nodding with wry excitement.

He wrapped his hands around her thighs, holding her steady as he finally brought the tip of his tongue to her slit, drawing back and forth gently as she shuddered at the contact.

"Please," a question and a demand, spilled from her lips as she tried to grind against him. He held her legs steady, even as she grew weak-kneed when he probed the sensitive flesh of her dripping sex.

This was so much better than any fantasy she had about him. She was wild with need, her head rolling back and loud cries escaping her.

He pulled away swiftly.

"Be quiet," he ordered firmly, replacing his tongue with his fingers. When he last touched her there, his fingers never went inside her, only played with her clit, but now she had the full length of one thick finger and her inner walls were already clenching and squeezing around it.

She let out a low, keening whine when he began to fuck her with his finger, drawing his lips over her clit, kissing it almost chastely before letting his tongue caress her. He held her still when she struggled for friction, giving her what she wanted with his mouth but his own way, sliding another finger into her tight core. It finally hit him, how tight she was, how pure she was. They'd never really brushed the subject, he'd assumed from her confidence that this was nothing new to her. He hadn't known she was a virgin.

"Rose…" he glanced up at her, now intently focusing on her, "You never said…"

"The reputation loses it's power when you've never actually done it before." She growled, gnawing her lower lip as she looked back at him. Her eyes were suddenly shy of him as his hands grip her tighter, "Does it change anything?"

"Yes," he admitted, drawing his tongue over her clit to make her cry out, "It does change some things. We may have to…slow down a bit…"

her hands tangled desperately in his hair, misinterpreting his words and trying not to lose the absolute bliss he was creating between her legs. He almost chuckled darkly before resuming his work over her, surrendering his teasing behavior to give her some relief.

His hands slid up to her waist and she was finally allowed to roll her hips as she wished. She ground herself against his movements, as his fingers scissored inside her, trying to stretch her out before curling to the spot he showed her the previous morning. Finding a distinct rhythm, he quickly worked her up to a full body orgasm, making her writhe against the cool tiles.

She shivered with bliss, her body aching for him yet so, so satisfied. Now that she had time to build things up with Dimitri she didn't feel the need to push him to his limits for fear of never getting further. It was so good, to know that there would be more of this.

He kissed back up her body, settling over her lips. She tasted herself in his mouth, shuddering at the realization, and wrapped her arms around his neck, literally trying to smother him with affection.

He pulled away with a warm laugh. She'd rarely seen him so calm, so carefree. "Good?"

"Good," she said, quite wilted from her sated afterglow.

He smiled, pressing his brow to hers. She realized the water pouring over them was cold. When had that happened?

"Well, classes are bound to start soon." She murmured.

She didn't want to leave. Neither did he. but their absence would be noticed, especially since they were absent together.

"Expect to actually work this morning," he said, almost scolding, remembering himself.

"Oh, I will, Guardian Belikov," she said, with that dirty smirk he came to love.

They'd be working, this he knew. On what, remained the question.

_a/n- a brief update, sorry I've been swamped with papers and projects this week, so it was a quick BJ in the shower or nothing for a while. I'm getting a lot of spanking requests, which will be fulfilled, but only at the right time, my lovelies. And Of course I'm changing the course of their first time, only for the better! Any other ideas? I'd love to get something to toss around while I work, it makes everything more fun! Thanks to all who reviewed, and to those who pointed out typos, I have been slowly going through old chapters to fix them, so thanks for the advice!_


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